What could have been
by cinomarsh
Summary: This is an alternate ending to Sweeney Todd. He doesn't kill Mrs. Lovett and Toby doesn't kill him. So... What now? And what about Anthony and Johanna? Sorry for potential OOCness. Please R
1. No death For now

**Hi again! I am going to attempt to write a half-decent alternate ending, so bear with me. Review and let me know if I succeeded or failed! Don't own. At all. :'(**

Mrs. Lovett watched as recognition dawned on Sweeney Todd's face as he stared at his beloved wife, dead on the bakehouse floor. He kneeled next to Lucy, brushing some of the faded yellow hair away from her once delicate face, now covered in scabs and scratches.

Mrs. Lovett looked at the door, and begin to inch towards it, but before she got anywhere close, the demon barber looked directly at her, his empty eyes warning her not to make another move.

"You knew." He said, the tiniest bit of rage seeping into his icy tone. It wasn't a question. "She lived. And you didn't tell me."

"Mr. Todd-"

"Why did you lie to me?" Sweeney asked, cutting the baker off mid-sentence.

The woman looked at the door and decided to bolt, but as she closed her hand around the cold metal door handle, the barber's hands were on her shoulders, shoving her into the wall painfully. He was shaking all over with pure rage. She turned her face away and closed her eyes, but he continued to speak, leaning close to her ear.

"Why did you lie to me? You've seen what I can do. Why take that risk, Mrs. Lovett?" His voice was cruel and demented, almost twice as terrifying as the razors she knew lay just inside his pocket, waiting for her. His grip on her seemed to tighten with every word. She trembled, her breathing shaky and panicked, as was the rest of her.

"Because I love you." She whispered. "I didn't want you to be 'urt by 'er. Mad, she was, after she took the arsenic. She was a different woman. Not the one you were in love with. Changed. Just like you. I thought, if you both moved on, you'd be 'appier. I'd be better to you, Mr. T. I always 'ave been an' I always will be."

"Don't. You. DARE compare yourself to Lucy!" Sweeney yelled at his terrified prisoner, throwing her to the ground. "You will NEVER compare to her! You will never _be_ Lucy!"

Mrs. Lovett's head hit the ground hard, along with every other part of her body. She struggled to sit up, to look at the man causing her this pain. Yet she couldn't bring herself to be angry with him. She knew she deserved everything that was happening to her. So as the man came and pinned her to the floor, she felt no anger. Only terror and pain.

He removed one of his razors from his pocket and flicked it open. It reflected the firelight from the oven in a way that under different circumstances would've been fairly dazzling, but as he moved it to press against the baker's throat, that was the last thing on either of their minds.

"I'm not going to stop lovin' you mister Todd. I didn't stop fifteen years ago when you left and I won't stop now."

"Why?" Sweeney asked her, the anger in his eyes replaced only for a moment by -could it really be?- confusion. It was not the question that the woman trapped beneath him had expected at all.

"WHY DO YOU INSIST ON LOVING SOMETHING THAT WILL CLEARLY NEVER LOVE YOU BACK? SOMETHING THAT'S DEAD?" He hissed at her. It might have been a trick of the light, but Mrs. Lovett thought she spotted a tear in the corner of his eye, but if that's what it had been, Sweeney blinked it away.

She didn't say anything for a while, just stared into the barber's eyes. _Dark brown _she thought idly _not black_.

"ANSWER ME!" Sweeney yelled once more, raising his razor and cutting down the length of the woman's arm. She bit back tears as the burning pain erupted from the wound. Blood ran down the sides of her arm, landing on the bakehouse floor. Sweeney pressed his now blood covered razor to her throat once more.

"I love you because you're fascinatin' to me. I loved Ben because of his traits. His laugh, his smile, his eyes. You're a different man. But this man's interesting and mysterious and dark and clever and schemin' and I love 'im more than I ever loved Ben." The words tumbled out as soon as they entered her brain. Sweeney stared at her in awe for a moment, his previous rage forgotten, leaving him temporarily vulnerable, but in a moment that was gone. He raised his razor one last time...

It came down across the baker's cheek, slicing straight from in front of her ear to her jawline. Mrs. Lovett gave a small whimper, and with that, the demon barber, got up and walked out of the bakehouse without another word. The woman let out a huge sigh, simultaneously relieved and confused by the entire situation. All of a sudden, Toby was at her side. She hadn't seen him leave the sewers, after witnessing everything.

"Are you alright, Mum? 'E 'urt you too bad?" He looked at all the blood around his adoptive mother.

"I'll be fine, love." She told him, but he was already out the door and up the stairs, in search of Sweeney Todd.

**Well, that's part 1 I suppose. More to come! Please R & R! Times is hard and reviews is hard to come by nowadays! ;) thank you and please exercise patience with new updates.**


	2. Toby makes a discovery

**Okay, I got really good feedback for the first chapter, so I'm gonna keep going. Please continue to review! Can't promise this chapter will be any good, but I'll give it a shot. Don't own.**

Toby ran up the stairs to the pie shop, then up the stairs to the barber shop. This had to have been Mr. Todd's doing. It must have been him.

The boy flung open the door, the bell ringing, to find Mr. Todd standing at the window, gazing down at one of his precious razors, cleaning it. The man looked up and, seeing Toby in the reflection on the window, kept his head down and continued to clean the razor.

Toby looked around and saw blood. Blood on the chair, the floor, the window, and the barber himself.

"What 'ave you done?" The horrified child asked. "What 'appened 'ere?"

"What does it look like?" Sweeney asked, and Toby noticed a smirk on the corners of his lips. "I finally got my revenge."

"On who?" Toby was afraid to ask, the stench of blood filling his nose, making him nauseous. Every instinct in him told him to run, but he needed to know. Everything.

"Judge Turpin."

"But... All those bones down there... The finger, in the pie..." The boy stammered. "Was that all you?"

Sweeney's smile was genuine now.

"I think you should ask your... _mother_ that question." He said. "I'm surprised she's been letting you eat those pies."

It took the boy a moment to put two and two together.

"Those pies... All your customers?"

The demon barber nodded, his smile now a wicked grin.

_It can't be true._ Thought Toby. _She'd never do that._ _Not my Mum._ He ran back down the stairs to the pie shop without giving the man another thought. He needed to find out if everything he said was true.

Sweeney Todd was left alone in his barber shop. His grin eventually faded. The only reason he had smiled at all was because that child would go downstairs and cause that dreadful woman more pain than he or his razors ever could. Mrs. Lovett loved that boy more than anything in the world, and he was about to discover who she really was; a wicked, scheming monster. And him seeing her that way would break her heart.

If the boy told the police of Sweeney's and Mrs. Lovett's activities, it wouldn't really matter. Who was going to beleive him?

But there was something else nagging at him; Why couldn't he kill her? The idea of letting Toby hurt her hadn't occurred to him until he'd left the bakehouse. Why hadn't he been able to kill the pathetic baker? She was just another person in his way. Not of any importance to him. But if that were true, then why couldn't he just cut her throat, like he'd done to so many before her?

One more thing was Johanna. He'd realized just in time that the boy he had been about to kill had really been his daughter, and he'd ran down to the bakehouse, leaving her alive in the shop. But when he'd returned, she'd left. He wasn't surprised, nor worried. She wouldn't go to the police, knowing Anthony would come to find er at the barber shop. She couldn't be far. He still had things to tell her, though, things to explain, but instead of running after her like a fool and scaring her more, he decided to wait until Anthony came looking for her, then follow him.

These were the thoughts plaguing the demon barber's mind as he grabbed a rag and began to wash the Judge's blood off the window.

**Okay, so, there you have it, part 2. Sorry it was so short, more chapters to come! If you enjoyed it and would like more, please let me know!**


	3. Johanna

**Okay, so I'm going to try to write part 3 now. Please please PLEASE let me know what you think? You have no idea how much your feedback means to me! (Too much) Let me know what I'm doing wrong or what I'm doing right or if you liked it or if you didn't or if you're missing a cat because I know someone who might be responsible for that. Anyway I don't own Sweeney Todd.**

Johanna stood on the corner of Fleet street, waiting for Anthony. She was afraid that he wouldn't see her, that he'd go into the barber shop looking for her. Or maybe the plan all along was to let the man in there kill her. It wouldn't surprise the girl one bit.

She had grown up with Judge Turpin as her guardian. She'd had tutors and nannies, but never anyone who'd truly cared. She'd been locked away from the world, trapped for her entire life. One thing she'd always wondered was if she had a real family, somewhere, waiting for her.

She'd seen Anthony, the charming, handsome sailor he was. She thought she might finally have someone who could rescue her. That seemed unlikely now, but she stayed anyway, having nowhere else to go, and clinging to the feeble hope that someone still cared.

She had been waiting out in the cold for what felt like eternity. She felt hopeless and alone. She wouldn't go back to bedlam. She'd die before that happened. So she just stayed there.

Then, to her astonishment, she saw him, in the window of a coach, rounding the corner. She tried to get his attention, but he didn't notice her. The coach continued down the street and Anthony hopped out, running straight to the barber shop. "No", Johanna whispered, but dared not follow him.

Anthony bolted up the stairs to the shop, filled with innocent hope and excitement. He and Johanna could run, she could be free, he could be happy! They could both have a family. Finally.

He threw open the door, but the only person in the room was Mr. Todd.

_Good thing I just finished cleaning_, thought Sweeney.

Anthony was instantly worried. "Where's Johanna?" He asked.

"I don't know." Sweeney replied honestly.

"I have to find her." The sailor said, promptly turning around and running back out the door, the barber in tow.

With one glance up and down the street, Anthony spotted her. She had taken off her hat, exposing her gorgeous yellow hair. She didn't see them coming until they were almost there, and when she did, her eyes grew wide.

She started to back away. He had that man with him, the one who'd tried to kill her. Only he was no longer covered in blood, or holding a razor to her throat. He seemed resigned.

"What's the matter?" Asked Anthony. He seemed genuinely concerned.

"That man" Johanna whispered "tried to kill me."

Anthony laughed. "Mr. Todd? You're not serious?" He said, but after a moment he could tell that she really was. He looked at the barber, confused.

"Mr. Todd?"

Sweeney's eyes never left Johanna. She was just as beautiful as his Lucy had been. The thought made it difficult to fight off the tears that came, threatening to spill down his face. She didn't seem to have inherited anything from her father, which was probably for the best.

"Johanna, I have to explain some things to you. Please just come inside with me." He asked her.

"No." Johanna's gentle voice trembled.

"Please." He begged. "I won't hurt you, I swear it. I need to talk to you."

All of this left Anthony fairly confused. What were they talking about? Surly Mr. Todd's intent was never to hurt Johanna. All that time in the madhouse must've scared her.

"You can trust him." He told his love. "I wouldn't let anything happen to you, and neither would he."

"Fine." Johanna said, turning her attention back to the barber. "But you have to promise to let me go after. Alive." Her voice was still trembling.

Sweeney's heart ached, the heart thathe sometimes forgot he had. His daughter was afraid of him.

"I promise."

**Sorry, this part of the story's a bit weird. I never really gave much thought to Anthony or Johanna. I hope you liked it anyway. Pleeeeeeeease review! I love reviews!**


	4. More painful than death

**Part 4, here it is! Thank you for the reviews, don't hesitate to continue! Don't own Sweeney Todd.**

Mrs. Lovett climbed the stairs out of the bakehouse after her head had cleared a bit, locking the door after her. She had been sure she was going to die down there, but Sweeney Todd's reaction to his wife's death had been completely different then she'd expected. He hadn't killed her. He'd come pretty close, but he hadn't done it. She wasn't sure why, and that scared her. But for now, she was alive, and her main concern was Toby.

He had bolted out of the bakehouse after seeing her hurt. If he'd gone to find Mr. Todd, surely he was dead by now. Maybe already back in the bakehouse. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Maybe that was why Sweeney had left her alive, to make her suffer through the loss of Toby. He might even force her to sell him as a pie. That thought made tears jump to her eyes. He would do that to her, after making him lose Lucy.

But then there was Toby, running into the shop, out of breath, with a terrified look in his poor innocent eyes, very much alive. She smiled and took a step towards him, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Toby.."

He stepped away from her, fear still present in his eyes that bored into hers.

"Tell me it's not true." He said, voice shaking.

"What's not true?" The baker asked.

"What you an' mister Todd did. 'Ave been doin'. Tell me you didn't."

The woman's heart sank. This was to be her punishment, she realized. She would have to tell her boy what she'd done. She hung her head.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, love."

Toby took another step back, running into the counter and holding on for support.

Mrs. Lovett was devastated, but felt as if a deed like this warranted a proper explanation.

"Mr. Todd would kill his customers, and drop them down through a trap door into the bakehouse. Then I'd... I'd..." She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Toby did it for her.

"Bake them into pies. And sell them." There was a pause. "You watched people eat them. You watched me eat them." He sounded so appalled, and who could blame the poor lad. He'd been through a lot in his life, and she just made it so much worse.

"I trusted you. Like a mum to me, you were. But you're a criminal. A twisted, insane criminal" He spat, his voice cutting through her heart.

There was another pause, in which, unnoticed by Mrs. Lovett, Toby was fighting off his own tears of horror and betrayal. After a moment, he regained his calm tone of voice and he stopped shaking.

"Senior Pirelli? The Beadle? The Judge?"

Mrs Lovett could only nod. "All dead."

"Why'd you do it, M-" Toby bit back the word "Mum", but not before Mrs. Lovett noticed, making her hang her head just a bit lower. "Why'd you do it?"

"I was desperate. Meat's expensive these days, an' I just couldn't afford it any more."

That wasn't the only reason, she knew. Wether she'd know at the time that part of the reason was to please Sweeney, she was unsure, but hell, did she know it now.

"Who was that woman? The one Mr. Todd 'ad layin' in 'is arms? The one 'e said you lied about?" His voice was so cold, so distant. She'd done that. She'd sucked the life out of him.

"She was Mr. Todd's wife, a long time ago. I let 'im think she was dead. 'E killed 'er by accident."

"Why?"

"Because I'm in love with 'im." She was surprised by her own use of the present tense. It was true, though. All of it.

"'E's 'orrible to you." Said Toby, a bit of compassion entering his tone. He walked cautiously towards her, to touch the cut on her cheek that had only just stopped bleeding. He seemed to remember what the woman had done, and backed away again.

"I know, love." She told him.

After a long silence, Toby asked:

"Did you ever really care about me?"

"Yes." The baker told the boy, without a hint of doubt.

"Then answer this. When you locked me down in the bakehouse, an' then when you an' Mr. Todd went lookin' for me down in the sewers, were you goin' to kill me?"

This was the question that stung the most. The thing was, she'd only locked Toby in the bakehouse because she'd panicked at his suspicions., but when they went looking for him in the sewers, she hadn't known what would happen if they found him, but that it probably wouldn't be good. She'd been a bit relieved that they hadn't found Toby, because she thought that that gave him a better chance of surviving. But she knew, if they had found Toby, she would've let the demon barber kill him. And that tore her up inside. She couldn't stand herself.

In response to Toby's question, all she did was look at him, tears finally falling from her eyes. But Toby's expression only hardened. He turned around and left the pie shop, not bothering to look back.

Mrs. Lovett just collapsed. She curled herself into a ball on the sofa and didn't move. She wiped away the tears that had already fallen and bit back the ones that hadn't. She wouldn't cry. Not again. This was her own fault. She felt no fear, no sadness, no self pity. She felt only anger towards herself. It was all her, and it all traced back to her love of that god damn barber. Is she hadn't cared, none of this would've happened. Lucy would be alive, Johanna would be with her and Sweeney, and Toby wouldn't be scarred for life, worse than any workhouse or abusive caretaker ever could. And she hated herself for that.

**Hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought!**


	5. Sweeney sort of explains

**Sorry for the wait, I've been busy! Here's part 5, please review! I hope you like it!**

Sweeney walked up the stairs to his barber shop with Johanna, as Anthony waited patiently below.

The demon barber was experiencing a feeling he hadn't since before that gruesome day when his life had been snatched away from him; nervousness. He hated it, and not for the same reason others did. He hated it because he felt like other people could see it, could see his weaknesses. He liked to think he didn't have any, but he knew he did.  
And one of them was his daughter.

He was nervous about talking to her. Would he tell her the truth? The whole truth? She'd hate him, never want to see him again. But she'd seen him kill the judge, so he couldn't just pretend everything was normal.

The bell chimed as he pushed open the door, Johanna hesitantly following. He dared not tell her to sit down in the chair he had nearly ended her life in, so he sat in it himself, the girl sitting on the chest next to the door, the one she'd been hiding in. He didn't know how to begin.

"Johanna..." He tried. "Did you ever meet your mother?"

The question seemed to catch her off guard. "No, sir." She said. Her voice trembled ever so slightly, just enough to break the man's irreparable heart just a little bit more.

"Did Judge Turpin ever tell you about 'er? Or your father?"

"No sir."

Sweeney had expected as much. Better she not know that he'd torn her family apart.

"Your mother was a beautiful woman." Sweeney told her, his voice distant, even to him. "Lucy Barker. She 'ad lovely yellow hair, like yours. And gorgeous blue eyes. She was a kind and wonderful person."

"And my father?" Johanna inquired, still very suspicious but curious, too.

Sweeney sighed. "Benjamin Barker. Got sent away for a crime 'e didn't commit, by Judge Turpin, because 'e fancied your mother. She poisoned 'erself, that man was so awful to 'er." Telling the story to someone else was much more difficult than he had expected.

"Is that why you killed him?" Johanna asked. The conversation she had overheard between the Judge and the barber was beginning to make more and more sense.

Sweeney nodded.

"And you were going to kill me because you thought I was going to run and tell?"

Sweeney nodded again. "And I'm terribly sorry. Even if I 'adn't got distracted, I wouldn't 'ave 'urt you. Just scared you a bit." That was a lie, but he just couldn't have her remember him that way. And that's when Johanna made a realization.

"Judge Turpin called you Benjamin Barker." She said, her clear blue eyes wide. "You're my father."

"I am." He said. "But don't tell Anthony. It'd all be a bit much for 'im. I just felt like you should know." He rose, and wandered to stare out the window, turning his back on the girl. "As per our agreement, you are allowed to go now. Alive."

Johanna, not sure how to feel, got up, walked over to the distraugt man , and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. She then turned around and left.

He had given the girl no reason to believe him. But Johanna did. It was because of the way he'd looked at her. With absolute love and admiration, along with sorrow shame at what'd she'd seen him do. That was pure emotion she'd seen in his eyes. She knew he was her father. And that what'd he'd said about her mother and Judge Turpin was true, which is why she told Anthony it had been a misunderstanding, took his hand, and walked towards the coach, towards their new life, without a hint of regret.

**There you have it, folks! Please review, sorry it was so short, more to come!**


	6. Sweeney's mind surprises him

Sweeney Todd stood by the window, watching his daughter's coach drive away. He didn't know if he'd ever see her again. The last thing tying him to his Lucy, he'd just... Let go.

His own behavior that day was troubling him. He hadn't killed Mrs. Lovett when he'd had the chance, he'd confessed to Toby, and now he could very well never see Johanna again. He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. Nothing made sense. He decided to see what the loss of her boy had done to his baker.

Sweeney walked down the stairs and entered the pie shop, which felt very empty, void of the energy Mrs. Lovett always brought with her.

He found her, curled up with her feet tucked under her on the sofa, a look of utter misery on her face. He lingered in the doorway. She looked up at him, her usually bright eyes looking as if all the life had been sucked from them. Serves the bitch right. He thought. Now she would have to endure what he'd felt all those years ago.

But he wasn't happy. He never was, but Mrs. Lovett's misery hadn't brought him the satisfaction he'd been expecting. Instead he felt... pity? He knew how she felt. But it was her fault he'd felt that way in the first place.

That's when it dawned on him. It wasn't her fault. As much as he hated the wretched woman, his imprisonment had not been her doing. That had been Turpin. But even if she hadn't lied, would he and Lucy have been able to have had the life he'd imagined? One part of his brain told him that yes, of course they could have, and to kill her now and be done with it. But the other part told him that no, it wasn't her fault. That Mrs. Lovett was guilty of no more crimes than himself. I was the one that killed Lucy, thought Sweeney, feeling as if he had just been stabbed.

"Come to finish what you started, Mr. T?" She asked, using the same voice she'd used when she'd told him of his wife's death.

"Where's the boy?" Sweeney asked, choosing to ignore the question because he wasn't entirely sure yet.

"Gone." Replied the baker. "Disgusted. Wants nothin' to do with me ever again."

The man could hear the pain in her voice, once so filled with life, now cold and empty. Was this how he'd looked when he'd lost everything? Was the same thing happening to her? He couldn't bear to think of that, nor how much it bothered him. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and, surprising her completely, went to sit next to Mrs. Lovett.

"Well what now?" She asked him.

What indeed, he thought.

The woman next to him turned her face to stare at the fire in the fireplace, and the barber began to study her. Her hair formed small, perfect red ringlets around her face. Her eyes were truly gorgeous and her pale skin shone in the light. She really was a beautiful woman, he thought. But a wicked one. Treacherous, deceiving, scheming... But joyful and clever. So unlike Lucy Barker, who had been proper and virtuous and polite and quiet, Eleanor Lovett was charming, friendly, extroverted, and lively. Lucy was his wife, and had acted like his inferior, where as Mrs. Lovett rose to meet him in almost everything he did. A partner, an equal. Although he never treated her like one. Lucy was a woman who was perfect for Benjamin Barker, but Mrs. Lovett seemed like a match made in hell (in the best sense of the expression) for Sweeney Todd. And that scared him.

Not much scared Sweeney Todd, but this woman did. She made him feel... Glad. Happy, in a way his wife and daughter once had, but could not ever again. They were the only people that should've ever made him feel that way. But Mrs. Lovett did. They were in this great black pit of a city together, and she intended to make the most of it. She balanced him out, and matched him perfectly with her incredible ideas and brilliant schemes. Lucy had been one of those schemes. And he should've been furious. That woman's blood should've been on his razor right now, her body on the bakehouse floor, and her boy's beside it. But all the anger he had over his wife's death was not directed at the beautiful, miserable woman beside him, but at himself.

He was angry at himself for killing her, cutting her throat like any other, not once stopping to wonder who's it was. But he had thought she was dead for some time before this. In a way, it was as if it had only been confirmed. He never would've been able to be with her. It was all the same now. The only difference now was that Toby was gone, and Mrs. Lovett was in pain. He wouldn't let her slip away the way he had.

"We could confess." She said finally, not moving her eyes from the flames.

"No." Sweeney said immediately. It wasn't so much that he was afraid, but he knew it would be too much to see his partner in crime hanged.

"Why not?" She asked, her voice still empty. "We all deserve to die. You said it yourself, Mr. T."

He had done this to her. Made her cold and distant.

"The boy might be disgusted with what we did," he told her, "but I can almost guarantee 'e doesn't want you dead."

That broke her. She had tried to shut down like he had when he'd lost his family, but her personality prevented it. She burst into tears, burying her face in the sofa. Sweeney just stared at her, unsure of what to do.

"Toby!" She sobbed. "'Is name is Toby!"

**Okay, I think this might've been my most fun chapter yet! Please review! I'm not quite finished yet. Have some gin and please be patient with the next chapter.**


	7. Toby's on his own

**Hello! I'm sorry I haven't written in a while, but I've been at a loss for ideas. I've decided to follow Toby and see what he's up to. His part of the story is one I feel I got right. Please let me know what you think!**

Tobias Ragg had been wandering around the cold streets of London for quite some time now. It was a cold night, the kind of cold that felt like it was biting into you, but the boy barely felt it. All the emotions he was feeling completely blocked out everything around him. He didn't care where he was going, just that it was away from where he'd been.

Mrs. Lovett, the same Mrs. Lovett that had taken him in when he was trapped with that awful Pirelli and had loved him like a son, had been a criminal. And a sick and twisted one at that. She and that terrible barber... Toby hadn't liked Mr. Todd when he still didn't know about what he'd been up to. He'd thought the man was cruel to Mrs. Lovett, and he had always suspected that something might've been going on in that shop of his. But the baker had been just as guilty as the oblivious object of her affection.

The boy's mind wandered to all the clues he'd missed, parts of his everyday life he'd failed to notice; Mr. Todd's customers rarely seeming to leave the parlor, how much more business the pie shop had gotten in such a short amount of time, how Mrs. Lovett had always been so secretive about the bakehouse. He shuddered at the memory of how terrifying the place had been.

Toby tried to recall the happy memories he had from his stay on fleet street, but everything was tainted. When he'd gotten pies from Mrs. Lovett, he'd unknowingly eaten murder victims. When he'd been running the shop with her, he'd been watching other people eat them. Every time he'd shown someone to the barber shop, he'd been leading them to their own deaths. It all made him sick to his stomach. Every time that woman had hugged him and told him that she loved him, that she wouldn't let anything hurt him, it had been a lie.

_But then again, _the boy thought, _maybe not entirely._ He had seen the way she'd looked at him when he'd confronted her about what she'd been doing. And he could tell how happy having him around made her. She obviously had a strong motherly instinct, and he brought that out, and had been glad to do so. But then he found out what she really was, and that she would've let him die by Sweeney Todd's hand. It was so confusing.

He knew he wouldn't go to the police. He couldn't watch the only mother he'd ever had die because of him. He knew that everyone else who died from this point on would be his fault, but he couldn't bring himself to hurt Mrs. Lovett. Plus, if he told everything he knew, they'd know he was alone and send him back to the workhouse. That place almost as bad as the pie shop.

He didn't know what to do. He would live on the street. Maybe find someone who'd take him in and hope that that person was better than Pirelli had been. He'd do anything he could. He just needed to run. He needed to stay far, far away from this life. The farther he was the easier this place would be to forget.

**I'm really sorry, I didn't realize this would be so short! Please review, tell me what you thought of it and I will try to update as soon as possible. Thank you!**


	8. A lot of thinking takes place

**Alright, I'm going to get back to Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney now, I really hope you like it! Please let me know!**

After Mrs. Lovett had finished crying, both she and Sweeney Todd sat on the sofa, staring blankly into nowhere, both experiencing their own kind of misery.

Mrs. Lovett had hurt the two most important people in her life: Sweeney Todd and Toby. Toby despised her now, knowing what she'd done. He'd never want to see her again. And Mr. Todd had not killed her, but she knew he'd never look at her the same way again (not as if he'd ever looked at her particularly well to begin with). He'd hate her, probably either leave or make his new purpose to make her life a living hell. She didn't know if she'd be able to bear it.

No one had ever truly cared for the baker. She herself had loved many times, but no one ever seemed to love her back. Her late husband Albert had loved her, and look where that had gotten him. She believed Toby had loved her, and now he was gone. She had dreamed that some day Sweeney Todd might love her, but now even that feeble hope had died.

The barber was in his own hell as Mrs. Lovett pondered this. His daughter was gone. He'd let her go. His wife was gone, and he had spared the woman who'd caused that. And he wasn't angry. Why not? Because he knew he'd have done the same? He was well aware of how the foolish woman loved him. If he had been in her position, he wouldn't have let an opportunity like that pass him by. He felt like tearing his own hair out.

In a way, he knew he'd caused her the same or similar pain to what he felt, by ignoring her and now making her lose the one creature on this earth that loved her unconditionally. Was that enough punishment? He didn't know.

He also didn't know what to do from here on out. Leave? Would he miss this life, or his partner in crime? He doubted it. But where would he go, what would he do? He had no idea.

He looked over at the baker again. She was still staring into space. Where would he be without her? With Lucy? No. Better off? Maybe. He wouldn't have much, that was for sure. He wouldn't even have his razors back. The Judge wouldn't be dead. But neither would Lucy.

Sweeney stood up and walked towards the door. Maybe things would make more sense if he wasn't around this woman. But before he left, he looked back at her one more time.

"Mrs. Lovett?"

"Hm?" Her head snapped up.

After a long pause, the barber shook his head.

"You're a bloody wonder."

And with that, he turned and left Mrs. Lovett alone with her thoughts.

**I know it's short, but it's here. I hope you liked it, please review! Still more to come!**


	9. A fair amount of flashbacks

Sweeney Todd walked into the barber shop and immediately began to pace, something he'd done a hundred times while waiting for the judge.

Now there was nothing left to wait for.

He was just confused. He kept running through everything in his mind: Lucy's death, Turpin's death, nearly killing Johanna, discovering he'd killed his own wife, cutting Mrs. Lovett's face, Toby's confrontation, talking to Johanna, and Mrs. Lovett crying. He kept coming back to Lucy's face in the firelight, once so beautiful, now cracked and dry and covered with scabs and scratches. She was a different woman than the one he'd left fifteen years ago.

Sweeney stopped pacing, sat down in the chair, pulled a razor from his pocket, and absent-mindedly played with it as he remembered the woman he'd left behind, as he remembered the life of Benjamin Barker.

The first thing he remembered was when he'd first seen her. She'd reminded him of sunlight: yellow and bright and beautiful. Her smile was beautiful and her face was beautiful and her hair was beautiful. That was the only way to describe her. She'd smiled at him and his heart had skipped a beat.

His mind cut to Lucy and himself, just walking down the streets of London. He didn't remember where he had been going and he didn't care. She was talking to him. Talking and laughing. And he was laughing too. London was so much cleaner and brighter and happier when he was around her. It was a good place, not the hell it was now.

The image in his brain changed again. This time he was at their wedding. He was standing at the alter, watching his bride walk down the isle in a gorgeous white gown that made her look like an angel. He remembered saying his vows and kissing her. He remembered how perfect it had been, and how much he'd loved her in that moment.

Sweeney Todd opened his eyes after realizing he had closed them, put the razor in his hands back in his pocket and looked around the room. It was as if all the light and color had been drained from the world, and he remembered who he was, and what he'd done, and who was downstairs. Why was she still here? He reminded himself of what he'd realized only a short while ago: He never would have been able to have a life with Lucy, wether the baker had lied to him or not.

His mind floated back to his wedding, and he remembered something he had forgotten before: two faces in the crowd he'd seen on his was out the door with his new wife. Albert and Eleanor Lovett.

At his wedding.

That woman was even in his memories of his _wife_, for God's sake. Couldn't she just leave him alone? Why was she there?

And that's when he realized.

The only memories he'd been dwelling on were those concerning Lucy, now and for fifteen years before this moment. He'd had a life beyond just his wife. He'd had friends, and one of those friends had been Mrs. Lovett.

Of course that hadn't been her name then. He'd called her Nellie. One by one, all of Benjamin Barker's memories that Sweeney Todd had ignored began to come back to him. He remembered before he met Lucy, he and Nellie had been friends. Good friends. He'd walked with her, talked to her, laughed with her. Even after he'd met Lucy and she'd met Albert, they'd still been close. He'd sit in her parlor and listen to her go on and on over the simplest things and laugh to himself. She'd gone to his wedding, yes, and he had been at her's, although he supposed he'd missed Albert's funeral. What was it she'd said in the bakehouse? About loving Ben? Did that mean she remembered? Did that mean she loved him before all this? Before he'd become a monster?

He stood up suddenly and began to pace again. He was more frustrated with himself than ever. Mrs. Lovett was devoted, he had to hand it to her. She was wicked. And brilliant. And cruel. And loving. And a liar. And she had been his friend. He hated what she'd done, but he could not hate her, no matter how much he tried. He didn't love her, that was for sure. He never would. But he didn't want her dead, which was more than he could say for most people.

While the demon barber pondered this, his accomplice was still downstairs. She had started closing up the shop for the night, more or less just to keep herself occupied. For the first time in a very long time, Nellie Lovett was actually sad. She was generally a pretty happy person, and even when she was unhappy she wasn't truly sad, but now she was. Sad and afraid. Less afraid of Mr. Todd himself, more just of what was going to happen in the future. Her plan had been to keep up the buissness until she had enough money to move to the sea with Sweeney and Toby. She didn't even know if she'd wake up tomorrow morning.

Mrs. Lovett sighed as she wiped the last bit of flour off the counter and locked the front door. She looked out at the dark, grey streets of London that she and Mr. Todd had looked at not too long ago and laughed. Now he hated her and it was all her fault. Between him and Toby she could barely stand herself. She managed a tiny laugh at the fact that, out of all the awful things she'd done, the only guilt she felt was for hurting Toby and making Sweeney hate her.

The baker wasn't quite sure what to do. She didn't dare set foot in the bakehouse, and she didn't dare go up into the barber shop, so she decided just to go to bed and see what the morning brought. No matter what that was.

**Sorry it took so long! Thank you for your patience! I hope you like the chapter! Please review!**


	10. Letters

After a very long time, Sweeney stopped pacing. He couldn't stand his own thoughts anymore. He had to see her. He had to see his wife one last time.

He walked out of his shop, down the stairs, into the pie shop (not seeing Mrs.  
Lovett he assumed she'd gone to bed), down another flight of stairs and through the big metal door to the bakehouse. His stomach twisted at the sight of his wife, lying where he'd last left her, bloody and broken.

He kneeled down beside her and just looked at her; Her hair, dull and straw-like now, her face, scarred and bruised, her clothes, tattered and ruined. He couldn't bear to see her like this. This wasn't Lucy. This was what was left behind when Lucy had poisoned herself and died.

Sweeney Todd, without thinking about what he was doing, put one arm under Lucy's shoulders and another under her legs and lifted her off the ground. He walked towards the light of the open oven. He stood in front of it for only a moment before tossing the woman's body into the fire and closing the door. He couldn't watch. She was gone now. He knew she'd been gone for a long time.

Back in the barber shop, the barber stood next to the small table and began to write a letter.

_Dear Johanna,_ it began,

_I wish I had been there to be there for you. I wish we could've been a family. I could've been there to see you grow into the beautiful woman you are today. I wish I could've been your father. But I wasn't, so for that and all the pain I caused you today I will always be sorry. I want you to know that every day I was not with you I missed you, and I want you to know that every day I am not with you I will miss you, and I want you to know that every moment of every hour of every day I will love you. Your mother was a wonderful woman. She loved you just as much. You look just like her. _

_Sincerely, _

_Benjamin Barker._

He sealed it in an envelope and walked back down to the bakehouse. As he descended the last few stairs, a figure came into view standing in front of the oven. The baker, he growled in his mind. What did she want now? She turned her face to look at him, the glow from the fire illuminating the cut on her cheek and the fear in her eyes. She was holding something. Sweeney moved forward and took it out of her hands. It was a letter like the one he had written, only this one read "Toby" in tiny letters on the front of the envelope. Without stopping to think, he opened it and began to read.

_Dear Toby,_

_I love you. I don't know wether you know that or if you even believe me, but it's true. I love you like you were my own. You made me happier than anything. I hope you loved me, too. If you've stopped loving me, I don't blame you. But I want you to know that everything I told you, about loving you, was true._

At that point in the letter, Mrs. Lovett seemed to have tried to start a sentance several times, but hadn't been satisfied and had scribbled it out.

_If I could do it over again I'd never have hurt you or put you in danger. Those are two things I will regret until the day I die. You probably hate me. Just know that I love you. No matter what._

_Mrs. Lovett_

Sweeney looked up from the letter and slowly handed it back to the trembling woman in front of him. She was close to tears. Over the events of the day, from fear, or from the letter he couldn't say. But he knew they were both thinking the same thing as they opened to door of the oven and threw their letters inside. Sweeney closed the door and looked at Mrs. Lovett.

"I should kill you." He told her.

She looked him right in the eye in that strange way of hers. Despite her shaking, she still made him feel transparent. He didn't like it.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did." Honesty rang clear in her voice. If only he could've detected her lack thereof before.

There was a very long pause.

"Lucy." Sweeney said after what seemed like forever. "She didn't like you." He thought back to the night his wife had told him that. He'd laughed and told her she was being ridiculous, that Mrs. Lovett was strange, but she was a good person at heart.

Mrs. Lovett just stood there, looking at him with a mix of fear and exhaustion and grief in her eyes. Sweeney didn't want to be around her any longer, so he left the bakehouse to go upstairs to his shop and pace some more.


	11. They get away with it

Mrs. Lovett was under the impression that Sweeney Todd didn't sleep. His pacing was audible to her from the moment she fell asleep to the moment she woke up every morning. She wondered if he slept in between then. If so, where? In his chair? Probably.

Mrs. Lovett woke up the next morning. It took her a long time to decide wether or not that was a good thing. All the same she prepared herself for a regular day, made Mr. T some pieless breakfast and nervously ascended the stairs to the barber shop with it.

She was going to just put it on the ledge and leave but as she turned to go she heard the familiar jingle of the bell on the door as Sweeney Todd came out to meet her. He looked first at the tray, then fearlessly met her eyes. The baker didn't feel any fear, only emptiness and curiosity. What was her mad companion's plan?

She had just opened her mouth to speak (to say what, she wasn't sure) but before she had a chance, Sweeney glanced down the stairs and instantly broke into a smile that cut her off. She knew that smile. It wasn't real, of course, but she'd seen him admirably use it every time he had a customer. Mrs. Lovett followed the barber's gaze to a short, stout man with a pocket watch in one hand and a hat that seemed too small for his head. She stepped aside as the man ascended the stairs and greeted Sweeney. As she often did with people she knew wouldn't last much longer, she didn't listen to much of what he said.

As the man walked into the barber shop, though, Sweeney leaned over to Mrs. Lovett and said "Wait here."

This took her a bit by surprise, but she obeyed. The woman positioned herself so that she could see through the window of the door without being too obvious. She'd never watched Sweeney work before and frankly, she wanted to see how he did it.

She saw him gesture for his customer to sit in the chair and as he did, he got out one of his large white cloths and tied it around the man's neck. He then proceeded to put shaving cream all over his face. Mrs. Lovett wondered why he did that if he was just going to... Never mind.

The woman watched as Sweeney pulled out one of his beloved razors and watch it shine in the light for a moment before raising his arm and, in one swift motion, dragging it across his victim's throat. Blood gushed from the wound and the man, in one last hopeless attempt to save his life, clutched at it desperately. Within seconds all of the life had been drained out of him and as soon as he stopped moving, the barber stepped on the pedal and sent the body down the chute and into the bakehouse.

Sweeney Todd's face was blank and expressionless.

Mrs. Lovett was shaking. She knew this had been happening but she and never watched it before. So bloody... The barber was so empty, so void of empathy. It was a terrifying thing to see. Why didn't he kill me, then? She thought.

Sweeney know Mrs. Lovett had seen him. He didn't care. It was about time she saw the full extent of what she'd initiated.

He walked out of the barber shop to meet her on the landing again. He noticed a tremor in her hands and a wildness in her eyes, neither of which had been there before. Was it really that shocking?

Before the barber even moved to speak, words spilled out of the baker's mouth, as they often seemed to do.

"What now?" She asked.

He was not surprised at the question. It hardly even needed asking; it had hung in Sweeney's mind all night. He only had one answer.

"Keep going."

He could sense the woman's confusion.

"What?"

"Keep going." He repeated.

Her quizzical look continued to burn into him, begging for an explanation.

"You are going to run the pie shop and I'll keep doing what I do best."

"But what about..." Mrs. Lovett's sentence trailed off. She couldn't say her name.

"Lucy." Sweeney allowed the name to melt on his tongue.

"She's dead. She killed herself." The statement was very final.

The baker paused for a moment, nodded and ran down the stairs.

Sweeney retreated into the gloomy confines of his shop, grabbed a cloth from his table and began scrubbing the blood off his chair. He'd made a decision last night; He'd decided that he only had one purpose now. His purpose was to continue eliminating the scum of this city. He'd decided to let his accomplice live, at least for now. He'd decided that the only option, really, was just to continue with his life. He'd realized that this was all he really had left now.

Mrs. Lovett sat down at the table in her kitchen. She was almost happy. She could continue her life! She doubted Mr. T would do anything awful to her now. It wasn't his style. If he was going to harm her, she'd know. So she was nearly happy, but she was empty inside. She didn't have a chance with him now, not a chance in hell. And her boy... Her poor Toby... She'd ruined him. Could she really bear to continue doing what sent him away? She knew that she could, and that sickened her, but she also knew that the shop and Mr. T were all she really had now. "These are desperate times..." She whispered to herself.

So the two kept going. They kept their business alive and well, and themselves off the streets. They got away with it, in a sense. Inside, though, the pain didn't ever truly heal. Mrs. Lovett still brimmed with hope every time a young, dark haired boy would enter the shop, and every time Sweeney caught a glimpse of a pale, delicate girl with yellow hair he froze. But both of them would be disappointed every time. They got by. They never were the same, but they could still sometimes be caught sharing a devious smile as another customer went upstairs to meet his end.

**Okay, well, there you have it! The end! Thanks for the patience and good reviews, I hope to be reading some more soon. Thank you!**


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